


Hunting

by SamanthaBlue



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Meme, not as violent as it sounds, off camera mugging, stabby stab stab
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaBlue/pseuds/SamanthaBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Meme fill: </p>
<p>"Aidan gets hurt while alone and he's unable to walk away so he calls Dean or Richard or James and the cast start searching for him, urging him to stay awake until they find him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunting

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless hurt/comfort, because I’m sick and feel like making others feel worse than I do.

When you read about it, it was always with an almost exotic air; a relic of a rebellious and dangerous lifestyle that was romanticised into American movies of youthful down-and-outs triumphing over the system, usually losing a friend or two in the process. Aidan had never expected it to happen to him, not here, not in Wellington.

But the fact of the matter was that here he was, huddled up against a tree that had forced its way up through the pavement, right hand clutched against his side as he tried to control his breathing and prevent it turning to hysterical sobs. He was in pain – he’d never been in so much pain before. He wished he’d never agreed to this blind date – she wasn’t even that good a conversationalist. He’d walked her home; it was a nice night and it was the decent thing to do, and several minutes after he’d left her flat behind him he’d been approached by a pair of young guys who had demanded his money with a knife. Give them what they want, he had always been told. If you’re ever in a situation where someone is demanding your belongings, give them what they want and you’ll be okay. 

One of the men had startled at a loud sound in the trees and had stabbed Aidan in the gut before they both ran. The noise turned out to have been a possum.

The shock and pain seemed to have wiped Aidan’s memory: he couldn’t for the life of him remember where the girl lived. He wasn’t even near her place anymore; he was sitting against a tree in a small, fenced off pathway between two fenced off properties and he knew he wouldn’t make it to someone’s door. He could call 111 but he couldn’t even remember what suburb he was in, and they would never find him in time. He wished he had asked for the girl’s number; she’d know the area much better than he did, but he hadn’t. He wasn’t going to ask her out again – they both knew that.

He reached into his jeans pocket gingerly, but even the slightest movement caused jarring pain to go up his side. His fingers were trembling when he removed his phone, and he cursed whomever it had been who had advised him to put a PIN lock on his mobile. Unlocking it on the third attempt, it took longer than it should have for him to access his phone book, and he tapped Adam’s name, it being the first one on the list.

His hand was shaking as he held the phone to his ear and waited – waited too long. It switched to voicemail, and Aidan let out a whimper of frustration, going back to his contact list. His friend Cameron was next, but he was in Dublin, more useless than the girl he’d just left. His stomach muscles contracted painfully of their own accord as he pressed Dean’s name, hoping to God he hadn’t gone to bed and switched his phone off.

Dean picked up after four rings, and Aidan, very distracted, almost forgot to greet him.

“Hello?” Dean said. He sounded relaxed, happy, and there was a lot of background noise. For a moment, Aidan forgot what he needed to say. “Aidan? You there?”

“Yeah,” Aidan said, his voice rough. He felt sick.

“Date not go well?” said Dean, his voice easy. “Well listen, me and Richard and James are at a bar on Ulster Street, if you want to –“

“I need help,” Aidan ground out, interrupting his friend. “I’m hurt, and I don’t know where I am.”

“What?” Dean said, but it was more an expression of shock than a question. “How hurt? Have you called an ambulance?”

“Can’t,” Aidan said, his voice strained. “I don’t know where I am. They won’t find me.” He took what was meant to be a deep, calming breath, but which ended on a bit of a sob as the pain flared. “I walked the girl home… I got stabbed a couple of blocks away.”

“Shit, Aidan!” Dean cried. “Okay, listen, we’re coming to get you, alright? Is there anything you can tell me? Did you try finding your location on your mobile?”

“GPS doesn’t work,” Aidan said. “Never worked. I’m under a tree… there’s a path, going between a couple of houses, like a pedestrian path. There are fences… I don’t remember, Dean, I can’t remember where she lived. I don’t –“

“Shush, calm down,” Dean said. “Percy set you up, didn’t he? I’ll call him and find out where she lives. You’ll be fine. I’m going to pass you over to Richard, okay? Don’t give up; keep talking.”

Aidan nodded, forgetting Dean couldn’t see him, and soon Richard’s smooth voice was filling his head like chocolate. It was only when Richard took on a sharp tone that Aidan realised he had unintentionally relaxed, and that he shouldn’t be doing that. Groaning, he pressed harder on the wound. “I know it hurts, but you need to stay awake,” Richard was saying. “Can you tell me where you’re hurt?”

“Knifed in the gut,” Aidan mumbled, but Richard heard him.

“Is the knife still in there?” he asked. 

“No,” said Aidan, wondering why it was important. “Took it with him.”

“Okay. Whatever you do, keep pressure on it. No matter what, no matter how much it hurts. Now talk to me: can you describe the stars?”

****

“Got her address,” Dean said, hanging up James’s phone, which he had borrowed while Richard was using his. If he had been less panicked, he would have admired Richard’s ability to remain calm at such a time. As it were, Dean almost ran out the door, followed closely by his costars, one of whom was trying to keep his friend conscious, the other of whom had now borrowed Richard’s phone and was dialing for reinforcements. 

The girl’s flat was not too far away; she lived mercifully close to the city, in a fairly upscale neighbourhood. James, Richard and Dean were not the only ones to utterly ruin a parking job: they recognised Graham’s car dumped half sitting on the footpath, the rear window still open. 

“They went that way,” James said, pointing, phone pressed to his ear and obviously getting his information from someone. 

****

Aidan was wavering. It had been alright at first, talking to Richard. The older man had a knack for sounding calm, which was strange, since he was really such a nervous person. But now it had become very difficult to keep saying things. Richard had begun to take over the conversation, and it was all Aidan could do to keep making assenting noises, to let Richard know he was still fighting.

His hand trembled over his wound, and his blood felt like a warm glove on his freezing hand. He had put his mobile on speakerphone a while ago - why did no one ever talk of how much effort it was to hold a phone up to an ear for so long? Every now and then he glanced despairingly at the time, but he didn't know why he did that, because he forgot what the clock had said every time. He had no idea how long had passed, how long he had been sitting here bleeding into his own hand.

He wanted to go to sleep. He wanted to curl up in his warm bed, preferably with a sunbeam shining in through parted curtains, and drift off into the impossible world of dreams. He was awfully good at sleeping, and he'd managed to wedge himself quite comfortably between two roots of the tree, and for a moment he contemplated closing his eyes and drifting off.

"Don't shut your eyes, Aidan," Richard said, sharp voice cutting into his thoughts. Aidan's eyes jerked open from where they had been sitting at half mast, and he wondered when Richard had become psychic. 

"I'm tired," he complained. That was the type of person he was. He slept whenever he wanted, and he didn't cope well if he was made to stay up when his body had decided it was time for a nap. 

"I know you are," said Richard. "We'll be there soon. Don't shut your eyes. Describe something around you... what's in front of you right now?"

"There's a possum," mumbled Aidan. "On the fence. Watching me."

"Right," murmured Richard, "good."

"It's a fluffy tail," Aidan described. He liked the possums here. They were so different to any animal back home. Once he saw one being fed fruit from the catering stand by one of the grips. It must have been starving, because most of them were too shy.

"Aidan, are you keeping pressure on the wound?' Richard interjected.

Aidan started - he'd begun to drift off. "Ow," he mumbled, pressing down again. It had stopped hurting with quite so much ferocity, but it was still very painful, especially with his hand shaking. "Forgot," he said, and laughed a little.

"Okay, just remember from now on, alright? Keep the pressure."

Aidan's head felt wonderfully loose on his neck. He could hardly remember feeling this relaxed. "I wanna sleep," he mumbled.

He heard Richard bark sharp words, but he didn't think they were directed at him. It was odd - he didn't remember any others being involved in their conversation. "Don't go to sleep!" Richard said. "I'll order you, if it comes to that. I'm your king."

Aidan would have laughed, but he didn't want his stomach to hurt any more. He remembered the dwarf boot camp, remembered Richard ordering them around like he was the boss of everyone. It had been offputting at first, and Aidan had wondered what he'd gotten himself into, but it had become funny later. "Kay, King," he mumbled sleepily.

His head began to fall forward of its own accord, his arm relaxed round his middle. He was about to pitch forward when he heard another harsh yell - this one not coming from the phone in his lap but from somewhere else, and his vision cleared as he awoke enough to notice that there were two figures on the ground next to him. He raised his hands, prepared to fight off his attackers who had probably come back to finish the job, but there was a familiar Scottish accent and a squeaky voice talking to him, neither of which had been the voices used by his attackers.

"Adam," he mumbled. "Thought you were 'sleep."

He cried out in pain and looked down - Graham was pressing what looked like one of Adam's never ending collection of knitted cardigans against his side. Next second, there was wonderful warmth around his shoulders - Adam was wrapping Graham's coat around him as the older man shivered in a T-shirt. Aidan wanted to say it was alright - he appreciated it but he already had a jacket, and Graham didn't, but the words never made it to his mouth. Surrounded by warmth, he finally drifted off into a long-awaited sleep.

****

Graham cursed, and reached up with one bloody hand to tap Aidan's ashen cheek, garnering no response. There was an insistent voice coming from the phone in Aidan's lap, and he recognised it as Richard's. The man must have been trying to keep Aidan awake all this time. 

"Yeah, we're here, Richard," said Graham. "He just passed out. Adam's on the phone to 111. It's a pedestrian pathway: Victoria Path, off Aurora Close."

Graham had rarely moved so fast when he got the call. He had been enjoying a cards night with Adam, Stephen and Mark, but that had ended when they learned Aidan was bleeding out somewhere in the streets of Wellington. They had jumped in the car to go help, Adam and Graham going one way, Stephen and Mark going another, while Richard, Dean and James had apparently searched elsewhere again.

Aidan didn’t wake up as they waited, his head pillowed on Adam’s shoulder. It took only a few short minutes for the ambulance to pull up at the end of the path and a gurney to be pushed towards them. Adam and Graham answered their questions as best they could on what limited information they had (it wasn’t like a usual conversation topic at dwarf boot camp was their allergies) and then Aidan was being taken away. They were joined very shortly afterwards by the other two search parties, who had followed the lights and noise and commotion.

“He’ll be okay, right?” Dean asked. 

Richard bit his lip. “They’ll get some blood back into him, but stomach wounds are difficult, if they hit the wrong area.”

There was a long period of awkward silence as they all considered the possibility that this could all go very wrong. 

“Let’s just go,” said Stephen simply, and they all left the tree behind them.

****

Despite their worry, Aidan was fine by the time they arrived in the hospital. He was sitting up and talking, and he laughed when Richard mentioned his worries about lacerated kidneys and sepsis. 

“No, they said it missed anything important,” he said, looking tired and pale but otherwise all right. “Hurts like a bitch though. I’d show you but I’ll start leaking if I pull the bandages back.”

“No, that’s quite all right,” said Richard quickly.

“Squeamish, Richard?” Mark asked, casting a sidelong glance at the younger man.

Richard didn’t deem Mark’s comment worth a response. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay,” he said to Aidan. “I think we all need some sleep. Shall we head home?”

“I’ll bring you some clothes tomorrow,” Dean promised, clapping Aidan on the shoulder. “Much as I think you’re rocking the hospital gown.”

Aidan grinned widely. “Thanks. You know, for finding me.”

Adam flushed and looked down at his feet; Graham ran an awkward hand over his head, and the others became flustered and suddenly interested in the colour of the walls. “Shut up, you wanker,” Dean huffed, cuffing Aidan very lightly on the back of his head. 

Aidan’s friends left saying goodbyes, and Aidan was left alone in the chilly hospital with the thin blanket and the IV sticking into his arm. Despite all this, and the pain still present in his gut, he smiled. He had the best friends in the world, and now he could finally sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> That turned into more fluff than you could shake a Rhosgobel rabbit at. IDEK. Hope you like it OP, sorry it's so late.


End file.
